


Ryan Ross and the Catastrophic Cozumel Crisis aka as How Ryan met Brendon aka Thank God for Spencer Smith

by A_Punk_Called_Bowie



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M, NOT A ONE SHOT, but not a series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 19:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4577919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Punk_Called_Bowie/pseuds/A_Punk_Called_Bowie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You see, Ryan Ross was not a partier in the least. He drank honey vanilla herbal tea and watched CSI Miami with his dog Leroy when he wasn't working at the hospital. He gets a lucky streak during the summer, which in a chain of events sends him to Cozumel, Mexico where he meets an enigmous rich model familar with the local party scene who takes an interest in him. And then all hell brakes loose.</p><p>Also thank god for Spencer Smith.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ryan Ross and the Catastrophic Cozumel Crisis aka as How Ryan met Brendon aka Thank God for Spencer Smith

**Author's Note:**

> writer's block cure. Prompt thanks to tumblr. 
> 
> "i went diving and closed my eyes so i didn’t see where i was going and accidentally hit your junk with my head I AM SO SORRY AU"

If you would’ve gone to 16 year old Ryan Ross and told him that in his freshman year of university he, due to a flaw in the scheduler system, would accidently be put in a sophomore med class and not only ace the class but get recommended to take more, he would laugh in your face and go back to reading whatever Chuck Palahniuk book had caught his attention at the moment. However, here he was, with eight years of school and a M.D. under his belt and as of this year awarded the best Thoracic surgeon of the year.

Though this was not how Ryan had planned his life, he was immeasurably happy. Sure 10 years ago he would’ve been pissed that he wasn’t in a world famous rock band, but things had changed and Ryan is sure it’s for the better. He is though, a little shocked by just how good things had been going lately. He got a four dollar raise and his boss gave him a week vacation, then his landlord gave him tickets to go to Cozumel that she had gotten from her job at American Airlines. He should’ve known something bad was destined to eventually happen to even out all the good, but the stream of good luck seemed never ending. The passenger that was supposed to sit with him didn’t show up, he got to sleep the entire flight, found a fifty dollar bill on the ground in the airport, got an amazing hotel room that had an ocean view, and got to Cozumel early enough to visit the pool. As he walked outside in the warmth, towel in hand, Ryan sighed merrily. This was _paradise_.

The pool is huge; glorious light blue water stretched across a huge deck with bars up and down the poolside serving rich men and women in fancy swimwear. Gorgeous people who looked like they had just stepped out of a photo shoots lounged in the water with their drinks in hand, or were lying by the pool tanning. Beautiful, tan, toned people were everywhere and Ryan felt just a little less confident. He set up a little area for himself and sipped a “Twister”. He had to ask the bar tender what it was, and found that it had sweet iced tea and vodka. It tasted alright for something as strong as vodka being in it. As he watched the people party and swim, he noticed among them was quite possibly one of the hottest guys he'd seen _ever (_ ~~behind Pete Wentz~~ ). Perfectly tanned skin like he’d spent all his time in the sun, plump lips, pretty hair wild from splashing around with the modelesque crew he had obviously come with. For some reason, Ryan just could not stop staring as he talked amongst his friends. While he was watching he noticed a very skinny blonde girl whisper in his ear and he turned in Ryan’s direction and began to wave awkwardly with a confused look on his face. He was wondering who exactly was lucky enough to gain this guy’s attention, looking around him and realized too slowly that the guy was looking directly at him. Ryan could absolutely kill himself for getting caught staring. He quickly looked back down at the notes from the hospital he had brought to study, pretending the guy wasn’t even there. Luckily, since the pool had such a large width across, the stranger could not just quickly take a couple steps to Ryan’s side and knock him down for staring. He took a torpid glance up from his notes and saw the group had gone back to laughing and dancing. He sighed in relief and let himself get lost in his chicken scratch handwriting.

He’d gone back to his room around five, but the sun hadn’t even started to go down yet since it was the summer. Ryan took a shower and after trying to find something on T.V., he settled on calling the front desk to ask about the local rental car places.The lady who answers the phone is extremely polite, giving him information and even a discount code for one of the rental dealerships. He also figured out the pool was open until 2:00 A.M. He tried, at first to occupy himself with things in the room, but after getting an overwhelming sense of curiosity and boredom, he goes down to the pool, feeling like a child sneaking out; as if any second his mom would come and yank him back to his room. After he reached the lobby and went out the door to the pool, he realized a little wryly that he is 26, he no longer has a bedtime or curfew and he was on vacation, as if that wasn’t a good enough excuse.

It’s not as crowded as it had been earlier in the day, of course this was because it was 10:00 P.M., official clubbing hours and the Vogue model look-alikes where probably off sniffing coke off tables and taking shots by the dozen; most of them probably not even old enough to legally do so. Ryan takes off his shoes and sets his towel down, wanting to finally get into the crystal clear pool. He goes to the edge and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. On one of the speakers near him, he hears a familiar song he cannot place playing lightly. Listening intently he tries desperately to decipher from where exactly he has heard this song. No matter how hard he thinks, he cannot find it in his memory and he realizes he probably looks like a moron standing at the edge of the pool with his eyes closed and face scrunched up in deep thought. Quickly, with no hesitation, he bends his knees and lunges up in a perfect arch, arms pointed above his head as he waits to spear the water. Splashing into the chilly pool, he finishes the dive with a perfect arch back up to the surface until he gets, quite suddenly, a face full of fabric and warm skin. Horrified, he speedily registers what exactly his face has been propelled against: a dick.

He thrashes away from it and surges to the surface of the water, looking to where he dived in and seeing a quite shocked looking man standing a few feet away in the water. Ryan feels absolutely mortified; his whole face and body burning with humiliation. He took a step toward the man as to get a better look, he was covered by a shadow and Ryan wanted to apologize. His features become more distinct with the declined amount of space between the two, and as his face became more distinguishable Ryan became distraught with his embarrassment-

 _It was the sumptuous man from earlier who had caught him gawking_.

“I,” Ryan says, putting space between each word to add emphasis on how bad he felt, “…am so, so, sorry.”

The guy laughs and steps closer, “It’s fine! Don’t worry about it.”

“No it’s not fine. You saw me practically drooling over you earlier and then I practically inverted your- your- uh… genitals.” He mentally kicks himself. When in anxiety-high situations Ryan was prone to throw out scientific vocabulary. He’d once, on a date with an extremely cute and wealthy woman, complimented her perfect posture by saying her thoracic must be perfectly in line. This somehow blew that out of the water though.

“Huh,” he contemplates, “I thought maybe you just recognized me, but apparently not. So you think I’m attractive?”

Ryan was under no circumstances cut out for a plight conversation such as this. He lacked basic social skills, he always had.

“Uh...yes? No,” he decides no is a safer bet.

“No?”

_…or maybe not._

“Yes? I mean- no. Yes.” Oh my god Ryan hated himself right now. His white flag was raised and waving, he couldn’t handle this. He’d been blushing for five straight minutes.

“Yes you think I’m attractive or yes you do not?” He asks, a cutting smirk on his face.

“Yes you- uhm- yes you’re attractive?” He replies, not completely sure why everything he says sounds like a question.

The man steps closer, “Yeah?”

Extravagant as the pool had been, it now felt derisory, as if it had shrunk and his flaming humility had stolen every inch of breathing space until he felt like he was gasping for air. This was overwhelming him. “Yeah,” he choked out, feeling flushed.

“That’s good,” he says, a full on smile now captivating Ryan, “because I think you’re _very_ , _very_ , attractive.”

Ryan practically swallows his tongue, “Oh.”

They were now about a foot apart, looking at each other waiting for one to break the silence. Finally, after a full self pep-talk, he convinces his limbs to move himself a step backwards and then he turns, raising himself up and out of the pool. He mumbles a half-assed, “sorry gotta go” and rips out of there, feeling a pair of eyes trailing him until he is sure he is completely out of sight.

 

 

**_Only when he wakes up, languid and forgetful of the previous night’s events, he realizes with disdain he had left his phone and towel when he dashed to his room._ **


End file.
